I wasn’t expecting to lose anything. It was the summer before I started high school and as far as I was concerned, life was normal but with an edge of excitement that never quite went away.
Eighth grade had a wonderful feeling of completion. I was going into high school with a college “prep” plan that felt comfortable and right for my interests and abilities. I was the last child in the family to complete junior high school and enter the powerful pre-college world of high school. Life was good.
My junior high school friends were a steady source of companionship. Knowing we would be meeting new friends brought a reliable sense of the future. If asked, I would have said, “Life is going to be new and exciting and I AM READY to move on from eighth grade and into high school.”
Looking back, those powerfully positive signals were almost too good to be true--no cautions around. No warnings of anything but new experiences and “blue skies”. I was on the move!! And my heart was grateful for everything in my life--especially my friends. Family is OK. But friends are “the best!”
When the message came for our group of friends to have a farewell meeting--pre high school--I thought…”what a good idea!” I didn’t think to ask for the agenda. We had lots to talk about and my mood was about as positive as I had ever been about anything. High School was going to be “good” and I was leaving my junior high school environment with an optimism that made me feel on top of the world. Praise God! Life was good.
No Warning Signs
Looking back, I didn't see any warning signs, no clues as to what was coming. I walked into the meeting with smiles and “jokes”. How good could life get? Friends, family, high school, boys….new things to learn and a new environment to teach me about life. All Good.
When I got to the meeting, my friends wasted no time in telling me the agenda. “We’ve decided we don’t want you in our group anymore. We don't want to be your friend.” The world around me crashed into a thousand pieces. I stumbled to get the words out. “I don’t understand”. The apparent leader said, “What don’t you understand? We’re cutting you out of the group! You can leave now”.
My heart was broken and I couldn’t move. And then silence as they waited for me to leave. I stumbled into the world that had just rejected me and cried until I didn’t think there were any tears left in the entire world.
The next few weeks disappeared into the final preparations to start high school. True to their agenda, no one contacted me about anything. I WAS ON MY OWN. Sleepwalking through the next few weeks, I didn’t share what had happened with anyone in the family. I couldn’t let myself relive the experience. Each day I avoided remembering and shut down any activities that would bring it back. But that strategy of trying to not remember what had happened was hopeless. It surrounded me with darkness that had no openings.
Absolutely Alone
Since school was still in session, I saw the same rejecting faces six hours a day. The excitement of high school was everywhere. I felt absolutely alone with no hope for relief anywhere. I managed to stay away, as much as possible, from my family so I could avoid questions. I stayed away from all social contacts, hoping to avoid having to explain my behavior.
In the last week of school, my teacher Miss Milar asked me to stop by after school. She was a tall, middle-aged teacher who was a combination of a saint and a friend as well as my teacher. She said simply, “What’s wrong?” The words entered my body and I couldn’t speak. But I walked straight into her heart and started to cry.
She sat down, pulled me into her lap and held me while I gave her my helpless tears and broken heart. No words of explanation were needed. Her presence, built on days and weeks and months of steady learning, were the means of healing and the hope of my future. It was exactly what I needed.
School ended. My friends did not return. Summer came and went. I learned I could survive.
Reborn into High School
And I was “reborn” into high school with a new understanding about life. I WAS a survivor. I had more strength than I realized and it was not to be denied. My job was to learn who I was and that meant knowing what I could learn.
There will always be times of growth that are mine to realize or reject. .There will not always be a Miss Milar around.to help me through them. I needed to learn how to learn and where to find help if I needed it.
So what did I prepare myself to do in life to survive? To be on the safe side, I went for two professions: - ministry and psychology. It was a good plan.
For Reflection (either individually or with a group)
Read the blog. Read it a second time, maybe reading it aloud or asking someone else to read it aloud so you can hear it with different intonation and emphases. Invite the Divine to open your heart to allow the light of new understanding to pierce the shadows of embedded assumptions, stereotypes, and ways of thinking so that you may live more abundantly. Then spend some time with the following questions together with anything or anyone who helps you reflect more deeply.
- How important are your friends to you?
- Do you tell them they are important to you? What else do you do to positively support your friends?
- Have you ever had an experience of feeling reborn after losing a friend or friends?
Download a pdf including the Reflection Questions to share and discuss with friends, family, or members of your faith community small group.
